Tuesday, February 9, 2016

dead language alive

This is again
a language to say.
Back from the dead

without stories
it remains pure;
The tongue

licks old truths
as it would do
to open wounds

just now with an
improved understanding
of the physiology of taste.

Sunday, February 7, 2016

You are standing in a field looking at the stars

I have now renamed
the world around me
after you:
the alarm clock,
the toothbrush,
the stars in the sky at 5:30 a.m.
when I leave for work,
the clouds
(when they are there),
the sunrise,
the empty seat next to mine
on the bus,
the subway stations,
the trains,
every block I have to
walk back from work,
the trees I rush past,
the traffic lights, 
my keys,
the shower,
my own reflection
in the mirror,
the pillows,
the bedroom walls.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Soul and forward

We love who we can love, and the rest stay ghosts. 
- Marty McConnell

I think it's time to fix things.

There's a lot to be done around the world,
a lot to mend in nature and people,
especially in people I guess.

I thought we were all meant to
live cordially together -
men and wolves -
but when we meet,
given the grandeur in one another's eyes,
we don't know how to go about
the enchantment.

We break things, bones, hearts.
Later to ache humanly.

I followed your trail
into the forest
and learned you first
from the top of a tree
because you wouldn't
trust me near.

I think I wasn't ready
to love a creature
as callous and detached as you are,
but I did.

The years run through us,
I doubt I'll ever be able to race you.
But I see you slow down the pace
and walk by my side at times
and I'm honestly grateful.

You keep disappearing among the trees
whenever I try to touch you.
you would expect me to cry
but this time I promise not to.

Every so often 
you push me away
but when I am allowed close,
I think to myself that it's the
fathomless, perfect
quietude of your soul
what draws me to you.

I think I wasn't ready
to love a creature
as beautiful and free as you are.
But I did.
I do.


Image by Chiara Bautista